


I Think I'd Prefer A Witch...

by Fenix21



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Permanent Injury, Pregnancy, Sibling Incest, not mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6103546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenix21/pseuds/Fenix21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester hates witches. Doesn't trust them.<br/>Turns out he trusts science even less.</p><p>Dean and Sam turn to the world of science to conceive their daughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think I'd Prefer A Witch...

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Eye of the Beholder](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5997598) by [poisontaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster). 



> Inspired by Poisontaster's Heart 'Verse part 41 _Eye of the Beholder_ in which Dean and Sam have made a life for themselves and started a kind of 'school' for kids who have been touched by the supernatural and usually in a bad way. This is staged somewhere around year 20 or 22, I think? According to her timeline. Anyway, go read it, it's wonderful!
> 
> The title is a little weak, I know, and it's way too late at night for good summaries. Also, I have nil experience with genetics and /or in vitro fertilization so I just kinda went with common sense there. Forgive the glaring medical errors.

Dean had no idea there was anything, supernatural or otherwise, that he trusted less than witches until he met Veronica. 

Veronica had a string of letters after her name that amounted to about a hundred thousand dollars worth of debt, more hours with her nose in books than even Sam had clocked over the years traveling all of America's scenic highways, and all so she could call herself a doctor; but not the kind that made you say 'ahh' or stuck their fingers in places Dean only allowed Sam's fingers to go nowadays. Veronica spent her hard earned piece of paper, that claimed she was one of society's smarter individuals, in a sterile lab that smelled of nothing (which quite frankly made Dean's kneecaps itch worse than if the whole place had reeked of sulfur), squinting down microscopes and at computer screens full of really big numbers, and the occasional whiteboard full of squiggles and jargon which meant so much nonsense to Dean.

'Remind me what we're doing here again,' Dean said in a low voice to avoid attracting undo attention from the other 'doctors' in the room.

Sam eyed Dean speculatively as he shuffled himself around to keep his blind side to Sam out of an age old instinct to protect his weak spot. That was something he had stopped doing years ago as the hunter in him relaxed even if it never dulled or fully retired.

'We're here to make a baby. Remember?'

Dean losing an eye had in no way diminished the sharpness of his glare and Sam was forced to duck away from it, hiding a smile behind his hand.

'Right,' Dean said. 'And we do this in a lab now instead of the traditional way?'

Sam outright grinned at that. 'Well, Dean, unless there's something you aren't telling me, neither of us is more than half equipped to do this, so we're going to need a little help.'

'And who is she again?' Dean pointed with his cane at the tall, dark haired woman conversing with her colleague about ten feet away past a three inch thick glass door.

Sam grabbed the cane and forced it down, rolling his eyes. 'I told you. I met her seven years ago on that job in Chicago, the one with the haunted biogenics lab?' Dean just shrugged, keeping his good eye trained on the leggy woman with the long ponytailed chestnut hair who looked way too good to be a doctor of anything. 'Anyway, ended up I saved her life and that of her boyfriend at the time. She said she owed me one.' He shrugged. 'I'm calling in the favor.'

'She's too pretty to be a geek like you,' Dean grumbled. 'You sure she's not a witch?'

Just then Veronica came through the sliding glass door with a huge smile, bright green eyes to match, and a fierce handshake.

'Sam! You made it. That's wonderful!' she pumped Sam's arm a couple of times and turned on Dean, 'And this must be Dean? I've heard so much about you.'

Dean didn't answer, but grudgingly accepted her hand.

It was after the first thirty minutes of sciency-doctor jargon between Veronica and Sam, that Dean decided scientists were just as wacky as witches.

'Whoa. Wait a minute,' he interrupted. 'You're gonna do what now?'

To her credit, Veronica did not give him the you-stupid-dope look or get out a flip chart and pointer with pictures. She just swiveled toward him and leaned forward, and Dean couldn't deny his appreciation for the fire and excitement in her gaze. He'd seen it before on Sam. Not so often in the years they were hunting and breaking and bruising and dying a little everyday, but more now in just the last few years as the school settled into full swing. Even though with their eclectic collection of roomers, Dean sometimes considered it more of a half-way house for the supernaturally damaged than a school.

'Dean, you and Sam couldn't have called at a more fortuitous time. My group has been given the go ahead to attempt human conception through in vitro fertilization using DNA from two males. One we will use in the traditional sense—sperm. The other, we will extract the DNA data from the donated sperm and imprint it on a blank female ova. We basically erase the genetic information from the donated egg and overwrite it with yours,' she explained to Dean's lost look.

'Mine?' he said.

'Or Sam's,' Veronica replied. 'It doesn't matter which. Then we provide the optimum environment in the lab for the egg to begin dividing and once we have confirmation of consistent growth, we will implant it in the surrogate.'

'Surrogate?' Dean nearly choked on what he thought that meant.

'Relax, Dean.' Veronica touched the back of his hand, and it was a tribute to how shocked he was that he didn't twitch away. 'We already have a surrogate female. She was selected from a group of fifty other candidates. I think you'll like her.'

'We'll get to meet her?' Sam asked hopefully.

'Yes.' Veronica smiled sincerely. 'While this is a trial experiment, and we will be gathering data and monitoring everything with extreme care and caution, we do still realize that what we are doing here is giving you a chance to have a child conceived from your own genetic information, and we want to make that process as meaningful as possible for all parties concerned. After all,' her smile broadened. 'You're having a baby!'

'All right, that's it, we're outta here.' Dean shot to his feet, though the effect was somewhat ruined by his wobble off to the right because of his bad leg. It was rainy today after all, and he'd woken up stiff in the motel room this morning. 

'Dean?' Sam followed him up, instinctively reaching for him only to get his knuckles rapped by the hard Muirwood of Dean's cane.

'This is not...' Dean fumbled for words, eyes darting everywhere except in Veronica's direction, looking a little wild and terrified when they glanced over the lab with all its shiny chrome and tubes and wires and glass. He threw up his hands and executed a somewhat unbalanced one-eighty. 'It's just not.'

Veronica looked at Sam, slightly confused and sympathetic as he dithered a handful of seconds before trailing off after Dean with a backward glance at her that begged patience and forgiveness at once. She waved them off with a smile that might almost have been a bemused smirk, but she ducked away to look at her monitor too quickly for Sam to be sure. 

Dean could move with amazing alacrity for a man permanently injured and missing not only the majority of muscle mass in one thigh, but also the handy trick of depth perception that was a gift to only those with two functioning eyes. It took Sam a dozen steps to catch up with him before he barreled around the corner to the elevators. There was a time Sam would have just reached out and grabbed Dean, but on these slick floors that was likely to end with his brother on his ass and pissed as a wet hen, so he swung around in front of him instead, hands up to steady his sudden stop. 

Dean glared. 'Move, Sam.'

'Dean, wait. What's wrong? I thought we were—' There was no hiding the crack and shake in Sam's voice. It was the sound of hope wheezing its last breath. 'I thought we were okay about this. We decided.'

'Well, I'm un-deciding,' Dean said, and ducked to Sam's right.

Sam called the feint and slid sideways, blocking Dean's path. 'Dean, we came all this way. We talked about this. I thought this was something you wanted, too.'

Sam's voice diminished to a whisper on the last words, and he knew it would screw with Dean's emotional equilibrium. He wasn't above admitting he did it on purpose. It was how he felt. Sue him. They'd discussed this, dammit. They'd weighed the pros and cons into the wee hours of the night, over breakfast, lunch, dinner, evening beers, on the way to get groceries, and while shopping for Chelsea's birthday gift. They'd had an _actual_ conversation about it that ended with a mutual agreement spoken out loud. Possibly the first time in Winchester history that had happened.

Dean was still not looking at him, not directly. Sam straightened, turned himself into that giant immovable tree he so often was compared to and squared his shoulders. 'Dean. Tell me what the fuck is running through your head.'

Dean spared him a sharp glare and then concentrated on tracing with a thumb the carved sigils just beneath the handle-grip of his cane. 'I can't do this, Sammy.'

Sam's heart went up into his throat and then, like it was attached to a rubber-band, dropped through the bottom of his stomach on the fast track to the soles of his feet.

'Why?'

It was all he could manage. He had no idea until this moment how he'd pinned his hopes on this, until Dean was jerking the rug from under his feet. He couldn't even get good and furious about his brother's indecisiveness. He was that hurt.

'Sam, I'm sorry,' Dean was saying. 'I thought I could. You know, with Chelsea and all...and I love the kid to death, and I really wanted— _want_ —this for you, Sam. I swear I do, but...'

'But what, Dean?'

It came out a lot sharper than Sam intended, and Dean flinched the tiniest bit. He finally lifted his gaze, his one good eye slightly watery, and gestured, bereft, at himself.

'Look at me, Sammy. You don't want a kid with my DNA. I'm a wreck. Missin' parts inside and out, and just...'

Sam stared, goggle-eyed, and then he did the unthinkable. He laughed.

It was full throated and came up from his belly, left him lightheaded from the the cascade of adrenalized relief washing through him. Dean scowled at him hard. Sam fought to catch his breath, leaning on the elevator bank, and finally managed,

'Dean, you _idiot_.' He grabbed the back of Dean's head and hauled him forward to his shoulder before he could get all huffy and try and run off. 'That's what this has been about?' 

Sam mashed his lips to his brother's temple, relief leaking out in the fierceness of the kiss. 'Dean, we're not making a _clone_ , you dummy. We're only using our base DNA—just like you normally would if we were doing this in the traditional sense—to jumpstart the process. We aren't making a copy of you, or me, we're making something— _someone_ —new.'

Dean nodded into his shoulder, and Sam could feel the heaving sigh of relief that shuddered through him. 'Now, if you still want...'

Dean drew back and shook his head. 'No. No, Sam. We do this. You're right. It's what we decided. Only I...I don't want any kid saddled with my—'

'Don't say it,' Sam said, swift and a little angry. 'Don't you dare.'

Dean bit his lip, and it shouldn't have been nearly so adorable. It should have been irritating. It should have made Sam want to punch him for putting him through this last minute stress when Sam was suffering enough from all his own misgivings. After all, what kind of a father would a demon-blood-infected psychic make? Not to mention he came from a family about as dysfunctional as it was possible to get. None of these things did he tell Dean, however, because Dean didn't need any fuel for his fire. Obviously. He was already feeling inadequate enough, afraid his kid might end up just exactly like him, which in Sam's estimation was no bad thing, but try convincing Dean of that.

They went back into Veronica's office, Sam with his hand discreetly tucked into Dean's elbow to steady him, and sat down across from her.

'When do we start?' Sam asked.

*****

Rylie was tall like Sam, athletic, auburn haired with fair skin and color-changing hazel eyes much like Sam's as well. Not that any of that mattered. Their baby was going to have none of her genetic information, but Dean still felt more comfortable knowing the kid had a great looking mom. 

'Rylie, I'm sure you've answered this in detail more times than you'd like to count, but can you...tell us why you want to do this?'

Leave it to Sam to get all nit-picky and emotional about this sort of thing, as if he would turn the girl down if she gave the wrong answer. Rylie just smiled patiently and leaned forward a little on her knees, long fingered hands clasped in front of her. Dean would have to remember to ask her if she played the piano.

'Actually, you may think this sounds a little irresponsible, but I...wanted the experience without the long term commitment?' She scowled at her own words, and Dean felt the frisson of uncertainty under Sam's skin where their thighs pressed together on the couch. 'No, that's not quite right. I guess maybe I wanted more of a trial run. I've got a lot I want to do, and I won't lie, the money in this is great. I have plans to go to Europe to study in archaeology, and this'll…really help.' She wrung her hands a little, more just a grinding of her palms together, because she still wasn't really satisfied with her own answer. She laughed a little, nervous and light. 'Honestly, they didn't ask me this one. Mostly it was just about health and family history, lifestyle, you know, so the pregnancy would be healthy and the baby would have the best possible chance.'

She paused here and ran her palms down her thighs, drew in a breath and blew it out slow. 'I, uh, had an uncle, too. He was the best guy. Never married. Died a couple of years ago. I was kind of the favorite niece, and...at the end he told me, well, probably the most romantic love story I'd ever heard, but it was between him and another man.

'He'd wanted kids. He was fantastic with them. But he couldn't be with the man he loved, and even if he was, they could never have had a family of their own. So I guess—I guess I'm trying to say I want to be able to help. I want to give something back. In his name.' She glanced up at Sam from under her long lashes, a little  uncertain. 'Does that—does that make sense?'

Sam didn't answer, but Dean could feel him nod, and when he looked over, his brother had tears in his eyes. Dean nudged him gently with an elbow. Sam ducked his head and swiped at his eyes. 

Veronica came into the office then, all smiles and eyes lit bright with anticipation and hope.

'Are we ready to go?'

*****

If either of them had thought that waiting to see the first signs of cell division in the lab once Rylie's egg was fertilized (by Dean's sperm—he insisted that since it was Sam's idea, he got to be 'mom') was stressful, they had no idea what they were in for waiting to see if the microscopic cluster of cells would implant in Rylie's very healthy uterus. 

She was kept at the clinic twenty-four seven with an arduous and stressful round of sonograms every six hours to check the status of the embryo. Sam and Dean both stayed the entire time, mindful of her privacy while at the same time she was well aware of their anticipation and accepted their round the clock company with utmost good grace. 

Being on the road to archeology, she was steeped in global mythologies, and she and Sam whittled away the hours sharing stories and ideas and reading from little known internet sites Sam had discovered in the course of his years of research, though he was careful to exclude the exact purpose of that research. 

Dean listened from his perch in the recliner Veronica had thoughtfully provided to allow him to stretch out his bad leg, and took regular walks around the clinic to keep from getting stiff. He knew Sam was conscious of his every move, keeping a subtle eye on him without really watching him, and when it got to be too much, he strolled out into the hallway and investigated what he could see of the labs and offices.

He met Veronica on one of his jaunts. She was standing in a tiny nook at the end of the hall with half a sandwich in one hand and a romance novel in the other, swaying slightly back and forth. She must have been engrossed because she startled a little and blushed when Dean cleared his throat, dropping the book into her lab coat pocket and catching a crumb at the corner of her mouth with the tip of her tongue. 

'Figured you'd go in for something more academic,' Dean said with a slow smile.

She smiled back. 'I'm up to my eyeballs in science everyday. It's nice to let my brain go numb sometimes.'

He nodded and eyed her sandwich. 'Let me guess...lunch _and_ dinner?'

She grinned sheepishly. 'Breakfast, too?'

Dean laughed. 'Well, I think I saw some Hostess cupcakes in the vending machine. Can I at least buy you dessert?'

Veronica popped the last bite of her sandwich in her mouth, nodded, and followed Dean back down the hall at a leisurely pace. 

'Veronica,' Dean started slowly, frowning. 'Do you know who we are?'

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye with a gentle, knowing smile. 'I know you're Hunters. Sam told me after...the incident.'

Dean bobbed his head. 'Yeah, okay, but what I meant is, do you _know_ who we are? _What_ we are?'

Veronica stopped and turned to face him, put a hand on his arm. 'Yes. Sam told me. He wanted to be sure it was safe. It was one of the first questions he asked, the first information he offered.'

'And you're...okay with that?'

She nodded slowly. 'I work in a world of theory and conjecture and discovering something new every day. I can't afford to be blind or closed minded to anything.' Dean stared at her. She squeezed his arm. 'Dean, the only thing I care about, besides seeing this experiment a success so that more couples like you can have their dream come true, is that this child will be loved. Will it?'

'Yeah. Yeah, absolutely.' Dean was a little breathless, and he wanted to blame it on not having taken his meds on time and the cramp forming in his withered leg muscles as a result, but it had a lot more to do with the tight band around his chest, the one he'd been feeling more and more since they got here and this half-imagined idea they'd come up with had started to become a reality. 

'Good.' Veronica turned to resume their walk.

'But, it'll...be okay?' Dean asked a little weakly, catching up in a couple of steps. 

'Yes,' she said. 'I took the liberty of a little up front genetic therapy just as a precaution, but yes, your baby will be perfectly healthy.'

'Good.' Dean nodded and thumped his cane on the tile in an absent show of conviction. 'Good. That's good.'

Veronica just smiled and slipped a dollar bill into the vending machine.

*****

Rylie was a very healthy young woman, the optimum choice in surrogates, but that didn't make any difference to Mother Nature apparently.

'Jesus, I'm sorry,' she gasped, bracing herself shakily on the kitchen sink while Dean held her hair back and Sam dampened a towel to wipe her face. She gagged a little and spit and slumped on the edge, finally emptied out. At least for the moment. 

Dean jutted his chin over his shoulder at the dinner he and Sam had brought. 'Get that outta here, huh? We can eat later.'

Sam moved immediately to clear the plates and food containers and set them out on the porch. Dean held onto Rylie's shoulders until he had her settled in a chair and a glass of tepid water in her hand, then he limped over and sat down himself, rubbing at his thigh because he'd wrenched the leg a little in his dive to keep Rylie on her feet when she dove for the sink and got sick. 

'Some visit, huh?' she sighed tiredly.

'Hey, don't worry about it,' Dean said, reaching out to pat her hand where it lay limp and pale on the tabletop. 'Has it been this bad the whole time?'

She shrugged a little. 'It comes and goes. Veronica said some of it might have to do with the shots, but she was really pleased with the last round of sonograms and test results, so she thinks we can stop those at the end of the month. Should help.' She took a sip of water and rubbed a hand across the barely discernible swell of her belly beneath her t-shirt . 'I'm sorry you guys came all this way only for me to end up sick.' 

Dean squeezed her hand. 'Forget about it. Sam and me, we lived most of our lives on the road, so it's no big thing. Eight hours is a trip around the block to us.'

Sam came back in with one of the containers of plain rice in his hand. He squatted down at Rylie's feet and rubbed her arm. 'Hey, kiddo, how about some ginger tea and just some plain rice? Think you can keep that down?'

Rylie considered for a moment and then nodded gratefully. He stood and started rummaging her cabinets, accustomed to the arrangement of the kitchen as they had been here nearly every other weekend for the last three months. 

Dean leaned forward a little. 'Rylie, I don't want to press you on this, but I do want you to know that you do not have to do this alone. We'd be happy to have you at our place.' His eyes flicked to Sam who had paused for a heartbeat in his search at Dean's words. 'Sam and I talked about this, and we'd love to have you.'

Rylie shook her head. 'I appreciate it really, and maybe...maybe I'll have to reconsider later, but right now I'm okay.' She rolled her eyes and smiled dryly. 'Other than ruining your weekend trip this time.'

'Hey now, none of that,' Sam said. He was peeling a knob of ginger root he'd found in the fridge and shaving it into a kettle of boiling water. 'You're in charge of this show. You tell us what you need, when and how. We'll work around you. You're giving us...more than you can even imagine.' He stilled for a second over the cutting board and looked back at her. 'We owe you more than you'll ever know.'

Rylie teared up at the words and Dean tossed Sam a ' _Really_?' look before taking her hand between his own. 'Ignore the man at the counter, Rylie. He's an over-emotional oaf much of the time.' This made her laugh, which was Dean's whole point. 'Besides, we're going to be calling _you_ for the midnight feedings, so don't think you're getting off easy.'

Everyone laughed, and the tea kettle started to whistle.

*****

At six months, Sam couldn't keep a lid on the urge to nest anymore. 

Dean had gone to Baxter with Chelsea on Saturday morning to watch her play in her softball tournament, and when he came home, the small office adjoining their bedroom on the ground floor that had housed anything Sam was most immediately working on was stripped of everything that looked even slightly officy and was instead overflowing with boxes of baby...stuff.

There was a lamp in the shape of a teddy bear holding balloons, and a crib that needed a good sanding and refinishing along with a chest of drawers that looked like it was missing all the pull knobs. There was a bag of stuffed animals from every fauna known to man. There was a clock in the shape of a cheery sun on one side and smiling crescent moon on the other. There were stacks of blankets and boxes of toys that would keep any kid busy until they were three. Besides all the bright colors that Dean just had a natural aversion to, there was just so much of everything that he exploded on seeing it.

'What the _hell_ , Sam!'

Sam looked mildly startled, a little affronted, and a tinge panicked. Dean glared at him and then turned a circle in the middle of the room.

'What the hell happened to our office!'

' _Our_ office? You never used it, Dean, and where else were we going to put her? All the kids are upstairs, and with your bad leg, I figured closer was better, and—'

'So you just decided to remodel while I was out? Could you have maybe _asked_ , or something? And why the hell is she going to need a room all to her—'

Dean froze, pop-eyed, and whirled around. Sam was grinning from ear to ear and holding out his phone. On it was a text message of Rylie holding a pink sign above her rounded belly with an arrow pointing down and proclaiming in her bold, straight script, 'IT'S A GIRL'

'Holy shit,' Dean breathed out. A slow grin was spreading across his face as he crossed the room and grabbed Sam in huge hug. 'We're having a baby girl!'

Sam laughed out loud and hauled Dean up against him, hiding his happy tears in the crook of his brother's neck lest he be called a girl, too.

*****

Veronica had been careful to caution them up front that there could be issues right up until the last minute, though the further along Rylie got in their pregnancy, the more relaxed everyone became, which was, of course, when Sophie decided to turn the tables on them. 

It might have been coincidence, or luck, or Sam's sixth sense that they had chosen this weekend to be at Rylie's and that Dean's leg had acted up so bad after their drive that he'd crashed out in her old rocker in the living room and she had been happy to let Sam have the sofa instead of them going back out in the cold to the hotel which would probably just make Dean's leg cramp worse.

It was two in the morning when Dean woke to Rylie's trembling grip on his shoulder. He was already half awake, having heard her cautious tread on the stairs.

'Dean.' Her voice was tight and Dean's heart rate ramped up at the thread of uneasy fear there as well.

'Rylie? What's wrong, baby?'

Her finger's curled into his shoulder, and she let out a slow breath. 'Something's not right. I think—I think I'm in labor.'

 

Sophie wasn't supposed to make her appearance for nearly four more weeks, but Veronica wasn't overly alarmed by the sudden onset of Rylie's pre-term labor, after they determined it actually was labor and not just random contractions, saying it was almost to be expected and that Sophie was extremely healthy and a good weight even for as early as she was. So, it was decided to let Rylie's labor continue as normal.

Dean had bowed out of the delivery room scene early on, not wanting anything to do with the actual birth. However, when it came down to hour fifteen with Rylie starting to weaken and panic, and Sam holding it together only for show, looking pale and frayed around the edges, Dean sucked it up, leaned his cane in the corner, and crawled up on the bed behind Rylie.

'Baby, you got this, okay. I know you're tired. I know. I promise you a good long, all expenses paid vacation wherever you want when this is all over, but you gotta push now, okay?'

Sam sat in the chair a couple of feet from the head of the bed, watching his brother through bleary eyes, heart thumping hard in his chest, not only in anticipation of the birth of his little girl— _their_ little girl—but from the rush of memory that Dean's gentle coaxing in Rylie's ear brought to mind. So many times in the past that Sam had been right there, in the V of Dean's legs, held fast and sure in his embrace, his rough-soft voice in the shell of his ear chasing away the pain or the fear or whatever affliction Sam was suffering.

Rylie cried out twice and only twice during the whole thing. 

Once when Sophie started to crown hard and fast and Veronica had to urge her to slow down and pant and not push for a few minutes. All the while Rylie clung to Dean, fingers gripped white around his wrists while he held them both up with hands on his knees. Sam knew his leg must be on fire from the position he was in, but Dean didn't let it show, not even a little as he continued to talk low and calm in Rylie's ear, coaxing her firmly at Veronica's direction, and urging her to relax between contractions, taking her weight and kissing her temple softly. 

The second time was when Sophie was finally born at 4:22 pm on a Sunday in a rush of fluids that poured over Sam's shaking hands as he held her tiny head in his comparatively gigantic palm and guided her little body out into the world under Veronica's watchful eye.

Sophie's first cry was thin and angry, but when she got a good lung full it pierced the air and almost made Sam flinch. She quieted right down, though, when he bundled her close and tucked her up against his neck and turned to Dean with tears streaming down his face. 

Dean would blame the sting in his eyes on sweat, from helping Rylie push and from the agonizing fire in his thigh, but Sam knew they were tears and that was okay.

A team of doctors poured into the room, splitting like a river at the delta, one group going to care for Rylie, and the other hovering around Sophie and checking every vital sign there was to check. Early as she was, Sophie was amazingly strong and only had to stay in the ICU for three days and that mostly for monitoring to be sure she could regulate her own body temperature and eat without any problems. 

Sam gave her her first bottle, sitting in the NICU under low light, one leg pulled up into the seat of the rocker while the other stretched out in front of him and set up a slow easy rhythm of.  rocking. Dean stood outside with Rylie, who was looking almost like her old self except for a distinct lack of sleep in the last week or so. She was smiling in at Sam and Sophie, and Dean watched her closely.

'You know, Rylie, you don't have to--I mean, I'm sure we could manage some kind of arrangement if—'

Rylie looked up at him with a grateful smile. She had refused to hold Sophie at all, would not in fact, go close to her at all unless she was ensconced in either Sam's arms or Dean's.

'Dean, it's okay. I get it, and thank you. I...appreciate the offer. I really do, but,' she turned a little and covered his hand on the knob-handle of his cane, 'I've got other plans. This was an experience not to be missed, for sure, and maybe I'll try it for myself one day down the road, but we accomplished exactly what we set out to do, and I'm good with that.'

Dean nodded and something in his chest loosened up a little in relief as Rylie leaned into give him a kiss on the cheek and a firm hug and then turned and walked away down the hall.

Dean watched her until she rounded a corner out of sight and then quietly crept into the nursery to stand at Sam's shoulder and watch in wonder while their daughter slept in his arms.

*****

'Dean, you asleep?' Sam whispered into the dark.

Dean pressed his face into his pillow momentarily to stifle a sigh. 'No, I'm just over here snoring for my health, Sam,' he grumbled.

Sam rolled over and pressed his cheek against Dean's shoulder blade, idly stroking his fingers down Dean's spine. Dean hummed his appreciation and bowed his back a little into the touch.

'Dean, we did...we did the right thing, didn't we?'

Dean turned his head on the pillow toward his brother, even though he couldn't see his face. 'Little late to be gettin' cold feet, Sammy,' he said gently.

'No. No, I know. That's not...I just was thinking.'

'Yeah, you do that a lot,' Dean said. 'Especially when I want to be sleepin'.'

Sam sighed and flattened his palm in the small of Dean's back, pressed his lips to his skin and whispered so that Dean could barely hear,

'I was just thinking about blood. My blood. What if...what if it all happens again, Dean? What if it's not over? What if all we've done is restart the cycle?'

Dean rolled onto his side and pulled Sam up against his chest, nosing into his already mussed hair, and gently fisting a handful.

'Sam, you listen to me. You listen good. What we did was for the most selfish reasons any person can ever do a thing...but it's the only reason worth doing it, too. We wanted to create a life together that we could nurture and raise and love and teach. 

'And she won't go out into the world as innocent as we would probably ever wish. She won't ever see the same world all her friends do because she'll know what's in the shadows between because we'll teach her so she never comes to harm.

'But we had a right, Sammy. We did. And what we did? It was awesome,' Dean said firmly, following it with a kiss to the top of his brother's head. 'Now, turn off the chick flicks and let's get some sleep, 'cause she's gonna be awake again in a few hours, and it's your turn to get her bottle.' 

Sam smiled against Dean's collarbone and wiggled an inch closer. Dean threw his good leg over Sam's hip and tugged him in tight. They fell asleep tangled in each other, tangled in love, while Sophie slept and dreamed, whispering of light and fire in baby soft sighs and murmurs.


End file.
